"Boy, that cork was loud!" chirped Mom.

She set down a tray of glasses and a large green bottle. "It's your favorite— sparkling apple cider," she announced. "I know it's not as good as a day at WonderPark...."

"Oh, Mom!" I gasped, my heart still pounding. "It's great. Everything is going to be great."

An excellent birthday. Cake, sparkling cider, and presents—two new video games, a Discman and some CDs, a purple backpack, and a sweatshirt in pink and purple—my favorite colors.

That night before bed, I stuffed my school books into my new backpack. I stared at the gerbil cage. Empty and clean—as if the Grool had never even existed.

I got rid of the disgusting creature, I thought happily. I really did. My family will finally be safe from bad luck.

The clock in the hall chimed ten. Time for bed. I climbed into my nightshirt and dove under the covers.

When the alarm rang the next morning, I bounced out of bed and ran to the window to check the weather.

"Oh, nooo!"

I uttered a low moan of horror.

The backyard—it looked like a desert!

Overnight, the grass had all burned brown. All the pink begonias dropped to the ground, dead and brown. Dad's red roses had shriveled and turned black.

Poor Dad, I thought. He worked so hard to make the yard beautiful. And, now... As I stared at the ugly, dead yard, I tried to force the thought from my mind. But

deep down inside, I knew exactly how it all happened. The Grool.

From its grave, the Grool had turned its evil powers on the lawn. And it killed every single living plant, flower, and blade of grass!

What should I do? I wondered, staring out at the burned, dried-out, dead, dead yard.

Should I remove the Grool from the ground? Did I have a choice?

Not really.

I quickly pulled on my new sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Then I crept downstairs. I sneaked out to the spot where I had buried the Grool.

And I began to dig.

Brown, dry leaves rained down on my head. My shoulder ached from lifting the damp, heavy dirt. My stomach didn't feel too great, either.

Dig, toss. Dig, toss.

The more I dug, the worse I felt.

I wanted to throw the shovel down and run from the spot. To leave the terrible creature buried for good.

But I had to face the truth.

If I left the Grool buried, it would keep on punishing me. It would punish my whole family.

I dug to the bottom of the hole. Then I bent down and pushed the dirt away with both hands.

Slowly, before my frightened eyes, the Grool throbbed into view. More alive and excited than ever.

"I should smash you with this shovel!" I yelled at it.

The Grool vibrated crazily, almost as if what I said made it happy. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. I could hear it breathe.

And then once again, it turned from brown to pink to tomato-red. And it kept changing color as it breathed.

Brown. Pink. Red. Brown. Pink. Red.

I grabbed the Grool from its grave. It pulsed so hard that it throbbed right out of my hand and fell to the ground.

"Stay still!" I shrieked, snatching it up.

The Grool stared at me. Its tiny, round eyes glowed red with evil. I shivered.

I gritted my teeth and shoved the Grool into the pocket of my new sweatshirt. I trudged back to the house, through the kitchen door, and into the hall that led to the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, I heard a noise. It came from Mom and Dad's bedroom.

They're awake, I thought. I've got to hurry before they see me and ask questions. That's all I need.

I leaped up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Whomp! I slipped and landed hard on my right knee. "Ouch!" I shrieked. I felt the Grool shake in my pocket. I heard its ugly, soft snicker.

Heh, heh, heh.

It was laughing at me!

I jerked it out of my pocket and squeezed it so hard that my fingers hurt. Then I ran to my room and threw the Grool into the gerbil cage.

"I'll find a way to destroy you," I promised. I rubbed my aching knee and glared at the little beast. "Before you can bring us any more bad luck, I will destroy you!" I cried.

But how? I wondered. How?